


Luke 24

by nb_vint



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-05
Updated: 2016-07-05
Packaged: 2018-07-21 16:13:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7394467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nb_vint/pseuds/nb_vint
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If he was being honest with himself, which McCree prided himself on, the decision between rotting in prison after that failure of a mission and a lifetime sentence of being the good guy had been made a little easier by the man who presented the offer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Luke 24

**Author's Note:**

> Did I get in over my head with this one? Probably.  
> Thank you Lu for helping me get this one out of my head and into a computer.

The image in his mind was blasphemous if he still believed in the words of the Catholic priests of his childhood. But if the priests had actually been there, seen the sheen of sweat coating Reyes’s face as he reached down to pull McCree from his own pool of blood, they too would have believed in a new god.  


Gabriel Reyes was the deliverer McCree had never hoped for, the saving grace in place of an absent divinity. The way his muscles had moved beneath the tight black shirt that seemed to be a favorite of Blackwatch operatives had inspired a gospel that would hold true with McCree for years beyond that first encounter. It made him want his own shirt.  


If he was being honest with himself, which McCree prided himself on, the decision between rotting in prison after that failure of a mission and a lifetime sentence of being the good guy had been made a little easier by the man who presented the offer.  


McCree knew what a crush was, had experienced it time and time again with the old western films that his Ma had teased him over. This was no more than the hero worship that he’d first come across with Gary Cooper and High Noon, one that showed an obvious level of dedication that persisted into his stint with the Deadlock Gang. Just as his darling Peacekeeper had been an outlet for that John Wayne fixation he refused to kick, these sojourns into fantasy were the perfect remedy for Gabriel Reyes and his danged shirt.  


That first moment of insight, of clear vision that he’d thought only surfaced when a mark was within grasp of his deadeye, also seemed to make itself known when McCree was certain of his want. And boy did he want Reyes. The usual taboos of fraternizing did not come into play when he was still in the ranks of Blackwatch, for what was one more ethical quandary in the face of unsanctioned murder and espionage. The only thing that held him back from any sort of move or subtle wink from beneath the brim of his hat was of a more personal note. Worshipping someone was a thing of distance. A thing meant for quiet moments of reflection and devotion. The kind of devotion McCree had always lacked when fed the body of Christ, amen.  


McCree reached down past the belt that he usually loved but now just felt like a hindrance to get to his actual objective, carefully unzipping his pants for the relief that was so desperately needed. This was his moment of quiet, of absolute certainty in the choice of his newfound religion. A born again faith made to cater to the reverently carnal. And who better to focus all that reverence on than the man who had saved him, the hero that Blackwatch had turned into something else, the only thing that had kept McCree from taking his final step into a godless void.  


The fact of the matter was that McCree had made a choice the moment he had accepted the extended hand, grasped onto it like the grace of God himself, given himself over to something he hardly understood even years down the line. The magnitude of a betrayal, two men gripped in the throes of disloyalty and pride, those were the kind of stories only the bible had provided up until the point that it became of the stuff of flesh and blood. Martyred on the back of Jack Morrison and a faulty line of thinking, only now could McCree see the irony in his choice for worship.  


Gabriel Reyes had been no saint, no holy figure that deserved a special place among the tombs of fallen brothers in arms, and yet. And yet here he was, raised again like the Son of Man, delivered over to the hands of sinners like the holy man he never should have been. McCree liked the thought of having craved Reyes’ flesh before it was taken away from him. His actions before, during, and after Blackwatch had made him a sinner by nature, but the repentance found in a figure named Reaper tasted better than the tears of a lost comrade, the loss of a potential McCree had never wished for and yet still thought of. A last desperate tug on his own flesh to finalize his worship at the altar of a man he had loved, a man he had lost, a man he had found again.


End file.
